He Blamed the Pygmy Puff
by Amanda332czx
Summary: The story about how a pygmy puff started a relationship between a certain redhead and none other than Draco Malfoy himself.
1. A Small, Pink Problem

**Disclaimer: I am not the author of Harry Potter. That would be J.K. Rowling. She created these characters and most of these ideas**

**The story will take place in the Hogwarts era, specifically in Harry's sixth year. It will feature Draco and Ginny, but another suggested pairing might be Hermione/Ron. The only reason it's rated T is to be on the safe side. There will be mild language, and possibly kissing in later chapters if I decide to continue this fanfiction. Anyway, that's that, and hope you enjoy it!**

**Chapter 1: A Small, Pink Problem**

It was fluffy.

That was the first thing Draco realized when he reached into his school bag, looking for his quill.

Then it moved.

That was the last thing he would have expected something in his school bag to do.

He wasn't one to feel squeamish or anything, but for some reason, he instantly pulled back his hand in surprise. Gathering a fair bit of courage, he shot his hand back in the bag, felt around for the _thing, _whatever it was, and roughly wrapped his fingers around it. Whipping it out of the bag as fast as he could, Draco glared in shock at a peculiar fluff ball… with eyes. Not knowing what else to do with it, he thrust it back into the bag, zipped it shut, and stared at it suspiciously. After 20 seconds or so of watching his tan school bag sit there lifelessly, he decided to instead, borrow Crabbe's quill and get on with his assignment.

It was 3:47. 13 minutes until Charms was over, Draco calculated in his head. He had been staring at that round clock in the corner for about the last half hour. His latest form of entertainment was attempting to count the ridges around the edge of the clock. Of course, he failed each time. It was just too far away, so by the time he got a fourth of the way around it, he would loose track and start again.

In the corner of his eye, Draco could see Professor Flitwick walking around the room animatedly lecturing the class as he flourished his hands around. Apparently, we were "learning" about a spell that was supposed to let us animate stuff. What was it called? Animation something? Animo? Anamium? Draco could care less.

He went back to counting the ridges.

13 painfully long minutes later, Draco bounced onto his feet, resisting the urge to stretch and yawn, and headed back to the Slytherin common room.

Once he was safely inside his dorm room and sitting on his dark green bed, he pulled his school bag onto his lap. Hesitantly, he unzipped it and placed his hand inside, reaching around for the_ thing_. Once again he felt the ball of fluff and lifted it out of the bag. Draco was stunned by the astonishingly cute thing within his grasp. It had large blue eyes about a third as big as it's body which were surrounded by pink fluff. Still a bit suspicious, he cautiously set it on his bed and watched as it rolled around a bit.

He vaguely thought about what it could possibly be. He remembered a couple of months ago when all of the girls were crazy about the… What were they called? Fluffy Puffs?... Pygmy Puffs! That was it! But how could it have gotten into his bag?

It was at that moment that Blaise Zabini walked into the dorm room.

"Hey Draco! Oh cool! Is that a pygmy puff?" he asked curiously when he caught sight of the fluffy thing on Draco's bed.

Panicking for a moment, Draco hurriedly swept the creature into his arms and shoved it back into his bag. "Huh? What are you talking about?" he replied smoothly, hoping that Blaise hadn't seen what he thought he saw.

"That pink thing you just put in your bag," Blaise explained casually, slightly confused.

"There is no 'pink thing' in my bag," Draco responded. He was getting slightly worried now. If word got out that he owned a pygmy puff, especially a _pink_ pygmy puff, he could be in some serious trouble with his reputation.

"What? But there was! I saw a small, pink pygmy puff on your bed when I walked up here, and then you shoved it in your bag!" Blaise described incredulously. He seemed exasperated that Draco wouldn't admit to it.

"There is no 'pink thing' in my bag," Draco spat through clenched teeth. He really hoped Blaise would just forget about it and shut up.

Blaise gulped, getting the message.

Although, Draco thought, he did seem to know a fair bit about Pygmy Puffs if he was able to recognize it with just a short glance…

"But in the hypothetical situation that I _did_ have a pygmy puff… what would it eat?"

End of Chapter 1

**What did you think? This was my first fanfiction. Please comment! I'd like to know that you exist! If I get at least 1 positive review, I will upload the next chapter. (It's already written! Hahaha! I know what will happen next, but you do not!)**


	2. A Friend Made and Lost

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. If I was, that would be awesome.**

**Hello! Thank you so much for the two reviews that I got! They made me so happy! I would also like to say that I actually did research, and Urquhart was the Slytherin captain for Draco's sixth year. Hope you enjoy it! Oh, and it's a lot longer than the other one...**

**Chapter 2: A Friend Made and Lost  
**

The first night Draco spent with his newly (and reluctantly) acquired pet was rather… delicate. He lay down on his bed, completely prepared to fall into a deep slumber, when the pygmy puff decided to come and snuggle next to him. Annoyed at the creature, he pushed it to the other side of the bed. A few moments later, it cuddled right back up with him. Even more aggravated, he pushed it away again. The damn thing kept returning, so eventually, Draco just gave up and let it nestle in next to him.

Over the next few days, Draco was mildly irritated with the small animal, as it refused to be left alone, and would follow him if he didn't put it in his school bag to bring with him. Even he, however, had to admit that it _was_ kind of cute. He had taken Blaise's advice and allowed it to scavenge for it's own food. It was rather self-sufficient, so as the days passed, Draco didn't really mind taking care of it. In fact, he even started to like it. It kept him company, and never made stupid remarks like just about every person other than himself. It just silently sat beside him wherever he was, and very occasionally made adorable squeaking sounds.

Since he preferred not to keep referring to it as, well, _it_ in his mind, he decided to give it a name. It took him the entirety of a History of Magic class to come up with it, (I mean seriously, what the hell do you name a ball of fluff?) but he was proud to declare it's name as Puff! Well, declare was a little extreme, since he didn't actually tell anyone, and he wasn't exactly proud of his pet either, but he did tell Puff it's new name. Also, judging by the outrageous shade of pink Puff's fur was, he also decided she was female.

Anyways, it had been a little less than a month since Draco had started to secretly keep little Puff. Luckily, Blaise hadn't said a word about it, and if he had, at least Draco didn't hear anything of it from anyone else.

It was a fine cloudy day, Draco observed as he pulled back the curtains of his window. There were still raindrops on the grass outside left from a night of drizzling, but today, everything was still. Streams of sunlight peeked through the holes in the clouds onto the lake in the view of his window, making for an exceptionally beautiful scene. The blue mountains behind it seemed to be spotted with pale purple, courtesy of the shadows from the fluffy pillows.

Draco sighed, and put the curtains back in place. It's Saturday. Quidditch practice, he thought dully as he got dressed. He placed Puff in the pocket of his robes and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

After cramming a couple apples and a bite or two of French toast down his gut, Draco hurried down to the quidditch pitch for practice. Meeting up with the rest of his team, he noticed that a certain group of witches and wizards in red and gold robes were also coming their way, with not-so-happy looks on their faces. He tossed his bag containing Puff and a change of clothes lightly onto the stands.

Once the Gryffindors had reached their huddle, Harry stormed up to Urquhart, the Slytherin team captain, and roared "Why are you here? We have the quidditch pitch booked!"

Urquhart sighed and calmly replied, "Alright then, where's your proof?" as a smile tugged at his lips.

Harry shoved a small piece of parchment at him and grinned smugly.

"Fine. How long will you be, then?" Urquhart asked disappointedly.

"Oh, I dunno, we might need to take a while, see, with Ron being our new keeper, and all..." Harry smirked mockingly. "We might even be out here the whole day!" Draco heard some snickering from the back of the group.

"I'll give you three hours," Urquhart snarled dangerously. "You better be out by then, or you can kiss next month's practices goodbye!"

"Right. Oh, was that supposed to be a threat? I couldn't tell, with the quivering and all," Harry shot back. He led the other Gryffindors, who were laughing hysterically at this point, over to the stands to drop off their bags.

The Slytherin team began to disperse and head back to the castle, but Draco stayed. He would rather be doing anything other than his Transfiguration homework, so he flew over to a fairly deserted section of the grounds, sat down against a tree, and began to just think.

He thought about quidditch. He thought about his teammates. He thought about his parents. And eventually, he even thought about Puff. The last thing he remembered before he dozed off was a splash of orange.

_He was running. No, he was _bolting _as fast as his legs could carry him through the forbidden forest. There was no time to look back. No time to yell for help. No time to _think_. He knew something was following him, though. He didn't need to look back to know that much. _

_Rough pants echoed throughout his body. Trees zoomed past him. The wind grabbed at his hair, his eyes, his clothes. But he was _almost there_! He could already see the light ahead of him, signaling the edge of the forest. So close! _

_But then he fell. _

_He had stumbled on a few of the large roots that were almost reaching out for him. He clumsily picked himself up, gulping down more air, and frantically glanced back as he started running again. Wrong choice. While his head was turned around, he smacked right into a tree. Once again, forced to the ground, he could feel invisible strings binding him down. He struggled furiously, trying to break free, but it seemed as if the more he fought it, the tighter the strings held him. His limbs began to feel like they were filled with lead, and his veins, filled with fire, but he willed them to continue thrashing around. The tall trees seemed to be staring down at him mockingly._

_He could see a blurry figure slowly gliding towards him. No! He was only a few feet away! He was almost out of the forest! _

_"But almost isn't enough," the figure whispered as it got closer. "You are mine," it said, "and I am going to kill you." It paused a moment, then said "Unless you give it to me."_

_It was then that he could see it. The pale face of The Dark Lord gazed patronizingly at him, with a long, pale arm reaching out, palm faced up._

_Tears of agony clouded his vision when more pain followed like knives stabbing his innards, and he looked away. He didn't want to give It to him. Voldemort could go die in a hole for all he cared. _

_At this thought, Voldemort hissed. "The latter option has been revoked. What a pity you couldn't be more like your father." Voldemort shook his head. "Avada Kedavra!_

Draco woke with a start.

He wiped a few beads of sweat off of his forehead before reaching a hand in his pocket and fumbling with opening his expensive pocket watch.

"9:31," it declared in a clear, masculine voice. He had gotten it as a birthday present from his mother a year and a half ago. It was charmed to speak the time, and was rather beautiful too, with the diamonds and all.

Well, he thought, I have thirty minutes to waste until it's our turn for practice. He took a deep breath, about to sigh, when the air hitched in his throat. Crap! He'd forgotten about Puff! _And_ left her alone for more than two and a half hours!

He jumped onto his feet, swayed slightly, and grabbed his broom from where it was leaning against the tree. It took him but three minutes to soar to the stands. As soon as he touched down, he scrambled to his bag to look for Puff.

The Gryffindors were still in the air, practicing separately, in groups divided by positions. They were looking pretty worn down.

Violently pulling open his bag, Draco stared in disbelief at his very pygmy puff-free school bag. He let out a groan. Where could Puff have gone? How long ago had she escaped? Maybe she was still around the stands… Just as he was about to bend down to look under the bleachers, someone from behind him spoke.

"Ahh, the great Draco Malfoy has come to learn a few things from his superior flyers. I'm honored."

He froze, and then spun around. In front of him stood a tall girl with flaming red hair, and freckles sprayed evenly along her face. A Weasley, he thought bitterly.

"I hope you aren't talking about yourself and the other friends of Scarhead over there," he shot back with a sneer. Seriously? She actually thought she was a better flyer than him? And they call me arrogant, he thought with a smirk. "You couldn't beat a flobberworm in a race if your life depended on it."

Her ears and cheeks turned as red as a tomato. Hmm, must be a Weasley trait."E-Excuse me?!" she stuttered, about an octave higher than the tone she had used before. "Who do you think won the speed contest last year? Or who got second place the year before that? Perhaps you had forgotten—"

"As much as I would love to listen to you inflate your ego even more, if that's possible," Draco interrupted with a fake yawn, "I am looking for something, so if you don't mind, I would appreciate it if you could kindly leave, before my clothes get too much Weasley stench on them." He looked down at his robes sniffed. "Actually, it's pointless. They're already ruined, thanks to you."

She gave an indignant huff. "Well, that's rich, coming from a spoiled, overconfident, unintelligent, good-for-nothing…

Her words slowly melted away into the background as Draco lost interest, when he spotted a small pink puff ball in the corner of his eye. He turned to look at it, and saw none other than his very own pygmy puff. She was currently to his right, near the pile of Slytherin brooms that were left behind, about 12 feet away.

"Hey! Are you even listening?" He heard her shout at him.

"Uhhh, yeah." _That_ was his brilliant reply? Great.

"Well you better be, because…" This time, he stopped listening on the account of the pink fluff ball, which was making it's way towards him at an alarming speed!

Oh no. This is bad! Once it gets to me, it will cuddle, or recognize me in some way, and Weasley will see, and then she'll know that I have a pink pygmy puff, and then my reputation will die, and then… Draco continued to think of all the horrific things that were about to happen as he watched Puff roll closer and closer to him. Crap crap crap crap crap crap! Without thinking, as soon as Puff reached him, he grabbed her and pushed her into his pocket.

"And what would that be?" The she-weasel asked, gesturing to his pocket. "The thing that you just put in your pocket. The thing that was," she took a moment to smirk, "_pink._"

Ohhhhh no. Gotta think gotta think gotta think… "It was my pocket watch, see?! I… I dropped it!" He said, too quickly, with a 'true story' sort of nod.

Of course, Puff chose that moment of all moments in her entire freaking life to make a squeak. I mean, seriously, could he have any _less_ luck?

The redhead looked surprised, and snapped her head to stare suspiciously at Draco's pocket.

"That sounded a lot like…" she started, and then trailed off. Then, she suddenly demanded with renewed confidence "What did you put in your pocket." It was said like more of a statement than a question, because it was left without the raised pitch at the end.

Draco's stomach reeled. "I told you," he attempted calmly. "It was my pocket w—"

"No it wasn't your pocket watch, it was pink and it just squeaked! Now take it out of your pocket!" She responded with more venom in her voice.

She didn't have to ask again, because instead of Draco taking it out of his pocket, (which he would never do in a million years) it jumped out into the hands of the Weaselette.

She gasped, and when she got a close look at what was now nuzzling her hands, she cried "Arnold! I've missed you so much!"

At this point, Draco was completely and utterly confused. His bewilderment was even increased when the aforementioned Gryffindor pointed a finger at him and accused "You stole my pygmy puff! You kidnapped him! How DARE you!" Draco was speechless, and stunned, but he quickly recovered and masked his face in a sneer.

"You seriously think that I would kidnap a pink pygmy puff? Why the hell would I want that ball of crap? I knew Gryffindors were stupid, but this? Wow, I think there is now a new meaning of stupidity." Draco was rather satisfied with his quick thinking, and finding a way to turn things around. But why had she called Puff by the degrading name of Arnold? Puff is so much better! Besides, Arnold is a boy's name. Anyone who looked could clearly tell by her fur color that she was female! His thoughts were interrupted when the youngest weasel spoke again.

"That's quite enough from you," she snapped. "I can deal with you insulting me, but with Arnold, you've gone too far."

"Why do you keep calling her Arnold?" he blurted. Oh crap crap crap crap! She looked taken aback.

"What?" she asked uncertainly.

"I asked you why you keep referring to Puff as Arnold."

"Arnold is Arnold's name, and _he_ is most certainly male," the redhead replied.

Draco blinked. What? But he had been so sure that… "How do _you_ know it's a guy? And how do you know _anything_ about it at all?"

"I should be asking you the very same question," the Weaselette snapped. "I bought Arnold from the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, with my own money. He was just a baby then. And now you claim to know him." A smirk began to grow wider on her lips. "It truly would be _awful_ if word got out that _Draco Malfoy_ is so well acquainted with a _pink pygmy puff_." She outwardly smiled in her success.

Draco recognized his defeat. He tried one last feeble attempt, "I-I never claimed that! I don't know what you're talking about!"

The redhead saw straight through it. She turned around towards the other quidditch players, still in the air. "Hey! Harry!"

Draco immediately realized what was about to happen: She was going to tell him. Oh, crap, oh crap, oh crap! He had to stop her before she told anyone!

"Wait, stop!" he cried and reached out for her shoulder.

She turned her head slightly, looking annoyed. "And why should I?" She said it with a sort of newfound power.

Regaining his composure, he growled nastily, "If you say anything about this, I will get Snape to sign a note saying that we Slytherins get the field for the entire month." Oooooh, he's got her now! Seeing all of the satisfaction leave the Chaser's face and be replaced with horror, Draco then delivered the final blow, "And believe me; I can be very persuasive."

Now it were her eyes that were filled with defeat. "You wouldn't…"

"You know I would," he shot back with confidence.

She gave a disappointed look, then turned away with Puff, er, Arnold still in her hands and started walking.

Draco stopped her yet again. "Wait, but what about Arnold?"

"What about him?" She continued walking.

End of Chapter 2

**Yay! So what did you think? Once again, if you read this and liked it, please review it so that I know you liked it. (Reviews make me so happy!) Also if I get at least 1 positive review, I will put up the next chapter within the next 7 days! **


	3. A Secret Mission Decided Upon

**Disclaimer: Me no own, You no sue.**

**Here it is! It's really short, because I had to make a plan for what I was going to do with this whole thing and the future and what not. Please pardon the use of all caps, but I figure that if JK does it, I can too. And it's pretty short. Thank you for the reviews! They mean more than you know! And also, did I mention that this chapter was short?**

**A Secret Mission is Decided Upon**

Quidditch was awful. The Gryffindors only stopped practicing once it started drizzling, ("Have fun practicing in the rain!" yelled Harry on his way to the locker rooms) so Draco and the rest of the Slytherin team was forced to either not practice for the day, or get drenched. Unfortunately, Urquhart stubbornly decided that he wouldn't let the Gryffindors have their satisfaction, so Draco had to fly through tiny, mist-like droplets that got him soaked even faster than normal rain. His goggles were so covered in water that he could barely see anything, let alone a snitch.

After practice, and after Draco had gotten into his clean, dry robes, Draco opened his bag to greet Puff, only to remember that Puff had gone with the Weaselette.

Slightly disappointed, he closed his bag and started heading back to the castle.

A few days later, Draco found himself scared for his life. He had been walking through the hallway, heading for his Transfiguration lesson, when he saw a hand reach out, grab him suddenly, and pull him into an empty classroom. Surprised and confused, he turned around, only to come face to face with a very enraged, very red headed girl.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH ARNOLD!?" she screamed at him, waving her fists menacingly.

Draco tried to get a hold of himself and give a dignified answer. He really did. Unfortunately, all he could manage was something along the lines of "Wha-what?"

"You know bloody well what I'm talking about! Don't even deny it, or I should curse you right here and now!" She grabbed his wrist and held her index finger at his face threateningly. "And I'm told that I can give a particularly nasty bat-bogey hex! Now fess up!"

Draco hadn't the slightest idea why she was so upset, other than it had something to do with Arnold. If he was thinking clearly, he would have been a little worried about what had happened to the little pygmy puff, but as it happened, he wasn't thinking clearly. He began to feel anger bubble up inside of him; why should she blame _him _for her stupid problems?

"How am I supposed to know what happened to your dim-witted pygmy puff? Why should I even care?!" Then, noticing that the girl was still gripping his arm, he added "Kindly remove yourself from my arm. I'm sure it already has enough weasel stench to last it a lifetime. Now if you don't mind, I do have a class that I'm going to be late for, so if you'll excuse me," and with that Draco swept out of the room leaving a stunned Gryffindor in his wake.

Once he was away from that empty classroom and safely in his Transfiguration one, he thought through his encounter. The Weaselette was obviously very distressed about the disappearance of Puff…er, Arnold, and thought that Draco had, what, stolen it? He had told her he didn't care…But he did care. He thought for a moment, and then made a silent decision. Not that he would ever admit it, but he did have a sort of connection with the little fluff ball, and maybe if he found him, he would be able to keep him. Of course, he would have to keep his searching a secret from the She-Weasel, and he wouldn't know where to even begin looking, but if he was successful, he would have his little friend back again.

End of Chapter 3

**There it is. I know it's very short, but I have a busy life. And also, let me tell you a little something about reviews: When I get a review, no matter what it says, I literally start dancing around, grinning madly and singing an off-pitch and sped up version of Happy Birthday to me. To give me this kind of happiness, all you have to do is click the button and type "I read your story". Of course, if you say something more than that, I might even sing that lucky lucky song, but really, I'm just happy to get a review at all. Oh! And anyone have any ideas for more epithets for Ginny? I'm running out of them, and I'm tired of reusing Weaselette and redhead. Thanks for reading! (And reviewing...Hopefully!)**


End file.
